The Soccer Game
by eyesocketsandsuits
Summary: [[ DenNor Oneshots ]] "We've heard The Eagles are rough," Abel began. "We want you to know we're proud of you, no matter what," Abel continued, nodding. "As long as you try your hardest, we'll always be proud of you." Lukas nodded, once. Abel held up his fist. "The Vikings can kick Linfield's team's asses no problem. Emil, you got this. Make the team—" He broke off, emotional.
1. The Soccer Game

**Note: These were originally posted in the FF . net story "Flying Pieces of Paper." They have been moved to this new story in an organizational attempt.**

 **DenNor oneshots.**

* * *

It was a crisp spring day. The air was clear and cold in the early morning, the grass dewy. It was the kind of day that promised to be glorious, sun shining, birds singing. Emil wanted to go home. He wanted to go home desperately.

The insurance-wrecking car pulled up to the curb, Emil sinking down into his seat when he caught sight of the field. Practices were okay, but games…

The car shut off, and Emil nearly closed his eyes in annoyance when Lukas and Abel turned around. Their faces were serious, Abel's unusually still, like he was about to tell Emil which senator to assassinate.

"We've heard The Eagles are rough," Abel began.

Emil looked at his cleats. Abel had insisted on Nike, though Lukas continued to push an even more expensive brand that made custom shoes with logos. His jersey was freshly washed, grass stains finally dissolved after hours of experimentation with bleach.

"We want you to know we're proud of you, no matter what," Abel continued, nodding. "As long as you try your hardest, we'll always be proud of you."

Lukas nodded, once.

Abel held up his fist. "The Vikings can kick _Linfield's_ team's asses no problem. Emil, you got this. Make the team—" He broke off, emotions overcoming him.

Emil was in the third grade.

"Proud," Lukas finished.

Emil opened the car door and stepped into the sun. He waved half-heartedly at Leon, whose foster-father was slathering sunscreen on him. Leon's shoulders slumped in greeting before his foster-father turned him around to get Leon's face.

Emil turned back to his brother and Abel. They opened the trunk, the lawn chairs and coolers landing heavily on the curb. Abel was still unpacking the car.

"Please."

Abel looked up, grin on his face. "What was that?"

"Please don't bring the posters."

Abel looked down at the sheet of paper, then back up at Emil. "Nonsense! You need encouragement! What better way than posters?"

Lukas loomed. "How else would everyone know the best player belonged to us? This way, everyone knows that number eight is ours." He pulled out his poster, which had been drawn with a deformed penguin kicking a smudge; Emil realized it was supposed to be him.

Emil walked quickly away, towards his coach. Ms. Hedervary smiled at him. Then, she caught sight of Abel and Lukas, dragging the chairs, umbrella, and coolers toward the stands. Her smile fell.

"Your uncles couldn't bring you this time, huh, Emil?"

Emil shrugged. "They were really upset they missed the last game."

The other players and their parents straggled onto the field. Emil watched nervously as Abel and Lukas sized up the competition, talking lowly to one another and pointing at the opposing team's players.

Emil was in the third grade. He was nine.

The whistle blew, and the ball was kicked off. Emil watched as the other team fumbled the ball for a moment, then ran over, getting the ball when it was unclaimed. He ran toward the opposing team's goal.

Abel and Lukas _cheered_.

"Woo!" Abel whooped, standing, sign waved around in the air.

Lukas was right next to him, clapping loudly, occasionally joining in with Abel's cheers.

Emil rolled his eyes. Suddenly, a huge blond kid was in front of him. Emil tried to dodge away, but the kid's foot was right there, and the grass was still wet, and Emil fell awkwardly.

Emil hopped up.

" _What was that_?!" Abel nearly threw the sign down.

Ms. Hedervary smiled as Lukas stormed up to her, demanding she intervene.

The game proceeded thusly. Sometimes, Emil would even touch the ball with his foot before one of his teammates took over. More times, that blond kid would snatch the ball away from him, the other team's coach cheering encouragements.

A timeout was called. Emil almost didn't want to go over for a drink, but he did anyways. It was almost too warm for it to be comfortable, and Emil opened the cooler and avoided looking at the scene that was happening a few feet away.

"Your number ten is _cheating_." Lukas had his arms crossed, but his whole body was radiating hostility. Abel hovered nearby, ready to swoop in.

The other team's coach raised an eyebrow, his bleached, white hair glowing in the sun. "Maybe eight isn't aggressive enough. Ten," the coach reached around to place a fond hand on ten's back, "is a fantastic—"

"Gilbert, please," the blond boy said, blushing, meeting Emil's eyes before looking away.

"Did you just say," Lukas asked, very slowly, "that eight isn't aggressive enough?"

At least the cops weren't called this time, Emil thought as they drove away an hour later, Lukas holding a cold water bottle to his black eye.

* * *

 **Based off of dorkdenmark's headcanons on Tumblr. Go check them out.**

"imagine little!iceland being on a soccer team even though he hates it and he sucks at it

and den and nor come to all of his games and cheer from the sidelines REALLY LOUDLY even though iceland just awkwardly stands on the field, occasionally running away from the ball

and norway gets really aggressive like 'FOUL THAT WAS A FUCKING FOUL FUCK THIS SHIT' and den is like 'calm down dear'

meanwhile iceland is dying of embarassment because everyone's staring at him"


	2. Vampires (W RusIce)

Lukas walked down the dark street, keeping a wary eye out for Ivan. It was surprisingly cold for the spring. Lukas wished that had been the one thing that had left when he had been turned. His skin could only feel sensation if he was on fire and he couldn't taste the spiciest food, but he could still feel a chilly spring night.

He rubbed his hands together absently, then pulled out his phone and shot off a quick text to Berwald. He received the response and hopped neatly over the territory line, heading toward the red-light district.

"Funny meeting you here!" Called a familiar voice.

Lukas kept walking, sticking his hands into his jean pockets. He heard heavy footsteps behind him and looked over his shoulder.

"You shouldn't be here," Lukas said, facing forward and walking a touch slower.

Abel laughed, running a hand through his hair. Lukas watched from the corner of his eye, amused at the hairdo produced. "Neither should you! And yet," Abel gestured. "Missed me, huh?"

"Says the man who came crawling back to me after his hissy fit," Lukas replied, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

"I didn't crawl," Abel snorted, shaking his head. "Give me a drag." He took a long draw on Lukas' cigarette before returning it. "Does the Defector know you smoke?"

"No. He doesn't know Tino smokes, either," Lukas said, monotone.

"Bad for your lungs," Abel nudged Lukas. "You're gonna' get cancer. Then what am I going to do?"

Lukas considered. "Get a life?" Lukas took another lungful of smoke. "We don't get cancer."

Abel shrugged, grinning. "Our hearts still beat. I'm pretty sure—"

"I'm sorry," Lukas interrupted, flicking away his cigarette.

Abel smiled, confused. "What?"

Lukas grabbed Abel and threw him against a shop display. The glass rattled dangerously, but didn't break. Abel crouched on his hands and knees, glaring up at Lukas. He looked feral. "What the fuck?"

Lukas didn't respond. Abel yelled, running at Lukas and tackling him. Lukas tumbled backwards, landing on his back. Abel pinned Lukas, glaring down at him. "What the fuck?" He repeated, louder.

"Bad little vampires!" Ivan called, trotting over to the pair. "Fighting on my territory."

Abel opened and closed his mouth, looking down at Lukas. Lukas sighed, trying to shake off Abel. "We didn't realize."

Ivan shook his head, clicking his tongue. Blood dripped down his chin and he licked his lips, giggling. "I got distracted. My friend ran away," Ivan sighed. His voice was always too high for his height and strength. He kicked Abel off of Lukas, putting his boot on Lukas' throat.

Abel bristled, standing up and taking a step toward Ivan.

"No, don't be doing this," Ivan scolded lightly, pressing down on Lukas' throat. "We might not get cancer, but crushed windpipe definitely kills." Ivan smiled down at Lukas. "You tell your leader to stay out. These humans are mine. I feel bad for old leader," Ivan gestured toward Abel, "but you and your Berwald are still a problem. Stay out."

"I heard your sister left," Lukas said. "I'm sorry."

Ivan's smile fell, and his foot didn't seem so heavy against Lukas' throat. "Yes, she did. To the… Place in Florida. She missed the sun, so, she is going to get cured."

"And," Lukas coughed. "And my brother?"

Ivan smiled, warmth seeping into this one. "He is good. He misses you."

"Did he… Turn okay?" Lukas asked, face blank.

"Yes," Ivan said softly.

Lukas nodded with difficulty. "Now."

"Now…?" Ivan frowned, confused.

Abel tackled Ivan, knocking him over with difficulty. Lukas stood up, rubbing his neck—not that he felt anything. Lukas walked back toward his part of town, listening to the distant sound of Abel and Ivan fighting.

Lukas lit another cigarette, blowing smoke rings.


	3. Circus

Abel stepped out into the ring, smile almost as bright as the floodlight on him. The crowd's dull roar soon quieted, all eyes on the man in the center of the ring. Abel finished counting a large wad of money and tucked it away in his breast side pocket. He tipped his hat, spinning around to see the expectant faces. His uniform was red and black, and he stood out like a beacon in the middle of the dusty ring.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Abel boomed, giving a little bow. "Welcome to Abel's Circus! You're in for the most spectacular show today, folks!" There was a smattering of applause. "Ah, well you don't believe me—"

There came a roar, and suddenly a giant mass threw itself at Abel. The crowd gasped. Half stood to help. Abel ducked, and the lion flew neatly over his head, coming to a skidding halt right in front of the audience. It circled around Abel.

"Sorry about that," Abel chuckled, shaking his head. "Sometimes Whiskers here gets a little antsy." The lion let out a low growl, tail flicking.

Another spotlight illuminated a tall man who had entered the ring. He was playing with the whip in his hands, staring at the lion. Abel clapped his hands together, beckoning the new man to come closer.

"Berwald! Control your creatures," Abel scolded, gesturing back at the lion.

Berwald lifted his chin slightly. He cracked his whip. Abel flinched and the lion come to a halt behind him.

"Woah, there, Berwald," Abel let out a nervous laugh, taking a step back. The lion roared behind him.

"Where's my money?" Berwald's voice wasn't as loud as Abel's, but the silence of the crowd allowed it to travel easily.

Berwald laughed, looking behind him at the lion. "Hey, easy there, Berwald, I told you, I'll get it to you as soon as possible."

The whip cracked again. Two tigers crept into the rink, surrounding Abel. The ringleader laughed, running a hand through his hair. Berwald didn't look amused.

"There were some, uh, _difficulties_ …" Abel tried.

Another crack of the whip and the giant cats began to move around the ring in a circle. The lion let out another roar, tail flicking. The cats were so close to the audience, someone could reach a hand out and run a hand down their sides.

"Berwald, be reasonable…" Abel laughed, stumbling to the center of the ring.

The lion and tigers began to squeeze closer to Abel. Berwald watched from the sidelines, arm crossed. The lion let out a roar and snapped at Abel.

"Berwald!" A different voice called from the sidelines. A new spotlight turned on, illuminating a young man in a long, trench coat. He strolled into the ring, tutting at Berwald. "This is no way to treat our ring leader," he scolded lightly.

Berwald looked at his feet before cracking the whip. The cats stopped, looking at Berwald. Berwald gestured with his hands and the cats slipped away out of the ring. One of the tigers brushed up against Berwald before disappearing into the dark.

Abel wobbled over to the new man. "Tino! You're a lifesaver."

Tino stepped away from Abel, giving him a sweet smile. "You haven't paid me, either, Abel. Berwald, would you help me with something?"

The lights cut out. There was a tense silence before a muffled struggle from the middle of the ring.

"Let go of me! Argh—I'll get your stickin' money just—"

The lights flicked back on. Abel was strapped to a giant, wooden target. He was laughing, struggling with his bonds. Tino stood nearby, smiling.

"Thank you, Berwald."

Berwald nodded before exiting the ring. Abel struggled in the middle of the bull's eye, laughing loudly.

"Tino! Tino, my man, this is ridiculous. I'll get you your money, I promise!" Abel laughed, tugging at his ties.

Tino looked at the audience, crinkling his nose. "He's said this about ten time before," he said, almost apologetic. "He likes to spend his money on… Well…" Tino mimed sipping a beer bottle with his hand. There was a laugh from the audience.

Tino walked up to Abel. He reached up onto the tip of his toes and patted Abel on the head. He grabbed the side of the target and gave a mighty heave, and it began to spin. Tino walked a few yards away, reaching into his trench coat.

Like lightening, there were five distinct thuds. The audience was confused before Abel let out an unmanly scream. There were five daggers in various spots in the wood surrounding the ring leader.

The audience gaped at Tino, who shrugged at them helplessly. His hand dipped back into his jacket, and five more daggers joined Abel on the spinning target. Abel let out a desperate laugh.

Tino reached inside his coat again, but paused. "Lukas, what are you doing here?"

A new spot light opened on a lithe man was walking on top of the spinning target, stepping on Abel's head when he spun near. Lukas switched to walking on his hands, then flipped over and resumed walking normally.

"Scaring him won't work," Lukas monotoned.

Tino looked at the audience, shaking his head, then back to Lukas. "What do you suggest?"

Lukas didn't respond. Abel slowly stopped turning, finally coming to a rest upside down. Lukas stomped once on the target and the clasps that held Abel released. He fell into a heap, and then stood up. He brushed himself off and glared at Tino.

Lukas did a neat little flip and landed on Abel's shoulders, causing the man to topple forward onto his stomach. Lukas rode Abel as he fell forward, hopping off right before the man hit the ground.

"You have to make him suffer," Lukas answered.

Suddenly, a man dropped from thin air, grabbing Abel by the ankles and disappearing into the dark space above the audience. Tino let out a twinkling laugh, shaking his head as he left the ring.

A trapeze bar slowly descended into the rink. Lukas winked at the audience before grabbing the bar and hoisting himself up and sitting on it. He was whirled into the darkness, leaving the audience to mutter to one another.

Floodlights illuminated the space above the audience. Abel was clutching another trapeze bar, hanging and swinging lightly in the breeze. Lukas and another man were to his left and right on their own bars.

"I gave you all an IOU!" He called, kicking his legs and glaring at the two other men suspended with him. "Lukas! Emil! Get me down from here!"

Lukas began to swing on his bar like he was at a park and not a painful fall from his death. Emil sighed and stood on his bar, frowning at Abel. "I'm afraid the bank doesn't except IOUs." He sat backwards, knees supporting him on the bar.

Lukas leapt from his bar to Abel's. The ring leader let out a yelp, kicking his legs more as Lukas began to rock the bar.

"I'm sure I could arrange a deal with your bank, Emil!" Abel called. His ankles came closer and closer to Emil's fingers. "After all, I arranged that deal with your brother—"

Lukas stepped on Abel's fingers. The man yelled and let go of the bar. Emil caught Abel's ankles, laughing as they flew through the air. Lukas continued to swing on his bar. As Emil and Abel swung toward him, Lukas did another quick flip and grabbed on to Abel's hands.

The three of them swung through the air like a demented chain. Another arc and Lukas released Abel's hands and caught the middle bar with one hand, letting out a faint laugh. He adopted a similar position to Emil, knees supporting him.

Emil frowned, tossing Abel to Lukas when he swung near. Lukas caught Abel's hands.

"I don't think this is working…" Emil called. "We'll have to call in the big guns."

Abel kicked his legs. "Please don't! Anything but—"

"Will you pay us?"

"I didn't say that!" Abel yelled as he was tossed back to Emil.

"Big guns it is," Lukas agreed.

Emil's bar descended. Abel was dropped a few feet from the center of the ring. The light illuminating the ceiling cut off and Emil disappeared back into the darkness.

Abel stood up and brushed his ruined uniform off, giving an awkward smile at the audience. He opened his mouth to say something. A tomato him square in the face. He whipped around to see two teenagers enter the ring, done up in clown makeup.

"What? Peter, Erland, you too?" Abel gestured toward each boy. "I don't even _pay_ you guys! You just show up in clown makeup—"

"Well, maybe we _want_ to be paid!" Peter said, rolling another tomato in his hand. "Equal representation!" His clown makeup was painted into a smile, while Erland's was a frown.

Abel threw his hands in the air and Erland threw another tomato at him. Abel ducked, sticking his tongue out. Peter took a threatening step forward and threw another tomato. Abel took a step back but tripped over a small white dog that stood behind him.

The dog barked and Erland and Peter began to pelt Abel with tomatoes. Abel tried to crawl away as the dog bit at his shoe. The audience erupted into laughter as Abel's clothes were slowly stripped off by the tiny dog. Abel was left in boxers, covered in tomatoes.

"Fine!" He finally called, accepting his fate. "The money's in the pocket of my jacket."

The two boys cheered, high-fiving one another.

The lights cut off. The crowd erupted into cheers, clapping and whistling. The lights turned back on, with the whole cast assembled. The stood in a line and bowed, smiling at the audience.

"Thank you for coming to see Abel's Circus!" Abel called, looking as confident as he did in the beginning of the show in his boxers.


	4. Sex God

No one had ever told Abel this sex stuff would be hard. It seemed easy enough on TV and online, but actually having it was a whole other matter. "Hard" might have been the wrong word—actual sex was easy, but…

"Oh, fuck," Abel hissed, the bottle slipping out of his hand. "The cap came off."

Lukas looked up, his usual passive expression turning to one of minor annoyance. "The cap did what?"

Abel dove after the lube, cursing wildly as the lube continued to spill out absolutely everywhere. "The cap came off!"

Lukas sat up, "I swear to god, that better not stain my carpet or we're never having sex again. Oh my god, just pick it up— _pick it up_!" He leaned over himself, attempting to wrestle the bottle out of Abel's hands. "You're spilling it," he said, his calm voice letting Abel know Lukas was furious.

"The cap!" Abel exclaimed in way of explanation.

No, _sex_ wasn't hard.

Lukas lay on the bed, naked from the waist down. Abel had walked in on this wonderful sight when he had gotten home late from work, and nearly threw his briefcase out the window. Abel unbuttoned his shirt as fast as humanly possible, kicking off his shoes.

By this point, he was almost ready to dive into bed, except for those stupid pants—the tight, formal ones that Abel only wore to meetings. Usually, his pants cooperated and came off, but these pants were no ordinary pants.

These were the pants Abel's mother had bought him, and they had to be as clingy as she was. Instead of sliding off his ankle, they caught on his heel.

Abel let out a manly shriek and toppled backwards.

It wasn't as if Abel didn't know how to be sexy. He had the most sexy, fun ideas. It was more the execution of these ideas that led to disaster.

Saturdays were the best. Late morning, late breakfasts, and usually, late morning sex. Abel had missed his chance, because Lukas was already in the shower, having left Abel to recover from the previous night. Abel was disappointed for all of two seconds—

 _Shower sex_.

Abel stripped, managing not to topple over this time, and slid into the shower like a snake. Lukas, while muttering something about snoozing and losing, was all too quickly pressed up against the cold tile. Abel was busy on his knees, Lukas' legs resting on his shoulders.

And then, like in slow motion, they tipped over and fell out of the shower.

Lukas, icing his bruises, later explained that he had been holding onto the shower curtain rod and bore down on it with a little too much force.

Don't get Abel wrong, sex was _fun_. And god, Lukas made it so awesome.

Lukas was on top, something he rarely did. Every time Abel tried to sit up and kiss him, Lukas would push him back down, focusing on what he was doing. Just when Abel was nearly there, Lukas suddenly fell awkwardly off of him and to the side.

"Lukas?" Abel panted, looking over. "Are you okay?"

"Shut up," Lukas muttered, stretching his right leg and clenching his jaw.

It took a moment for Abel to realize what had happened. He blew air out of his lips, the sound turning into laughter. "I told you we should stretch before we do stuff! Look, now you have a cramp—"

"I will end you," Lukas said, even softer than before. He pulled Abel on top of him and they resumed.

As Lukas clawed at Abel's back, his breathing ragged, Abel kissed his neck, moaning his name.

And then there was a loud thump.

"Fuck," Lukas half yelled, pushing off Abel and rubbing the back of his head furiously.

Abel let out the same laugh as before, collapsing next to Lukas.

"You're terrible at sex," Lukas griped, shooting Abel an annoyed look.

Abel disagreed. He wasn't terrible at _sex_ , just… At all the other parts.


	5. It's Basically Oatmeal

**Happy birthday, Iceland.**

 **Abel is Denmark.**

* * *

It was four in the morning—way too fucking early for Emil to be up. Every fiber of his tired, little being wanted to crawl back into bed and ignore the rest of the world for the day.

Of course, that's how Emil usually felt. But he especially felt that this today. He should have bought the Taser.

It was still dark at this terrible time of day. He squinted as he picked his way through the room, toeing over mounds of clothing. He hit the door sooner than he would have thought, and he knee knocked against the wood.

He froze.

He listened.

He waited.

For three long minutes, every cell in his body was alert for the sound of footsteps.

But—so far, so good. Emil jiggled the handle, eased the door open.

The hallway was darker than his room. He squinted, biding his time. He'd rather spend time waiting for his eyes to adjust than to trip over something and wake the whole house. So, Emil counted his breaths.

Out of the gloom, a lumpy shape.

 _What the fuck?_

Emil squinted harder.

It looked like a large worm, leaning against the far wall. It moved, and Emil almost threw himself backwards into his room.

"What," the shape asked, "do you want for your birthday breakfast?"

Emil's tired, little heart deflated. "Nothing."

A phone illuminated Lukas' face in the darkness. "You're up awfully early, birthday boy."

Emil should have known it was futile. "Stop calling me that."

"I can only call you that once a year, birthday boy." Lukas wiggled his sleeping bag closer. "What do you want for your breakfast, birthday boy? I bought stuff to make hafragrautur. Do you want some, birthday boy?"

Emil did want some. "No."

"I bought raisins."

Emil hunched his shoulders. "I'm going back to sleep."

"I'll wake you up at a reasonable hour, birthday boy."

Emil curled back into bed and glowered at the far wall. This was bullshit. Who the fuck sleeps in the _hallway_? Emil hadn't even seen any pillows. Who sleeps in the hallway without any _pillows_? Maybe Lukas just didn't sleep.

Emil loved sleep.

This was just another piece of evidence that Emil was adopted.

" _Happy birthday_!"

A rock fell on Emil.

"I'm dying," Emil croaked.

The rock started choking him. "Sixteen years old, dude! We can get you a car! Wouldn't that be awesome?! A car! A _Mustang_ car! Lukas said you were trying to escape this morning, so I couldn't wish you happy birthday."

"Release me," Emil said.

Abel grinned and held Emil at arm's length. He shook him slightly. "We get cake."

"I hate cake." Emil loved cake.

Abel deflated. "You love cake, don't you?"

Emil loved causing pain to the ones he loved. "No."

Abel found more helium. "Lukas made hafragrautur! _And_ he bought raisins!"

"Lame."

Abel hauled him out of bed. If Emil had been a stupid _jock_ , he might have been able to fight back. As it was, Emil valued brains over brawns, so Abel held onto his hand and dragged him over the hardwood floor.

Emil _seethed_ over socks and kinetic friction.

The kitchen smelled wonderful. Lukas watched the crust form on the hafragrautur, cinnamon and butter and _raisins_ at his side. Abel released him and sat at the table, watching Lukas like some sort of large, blond dog.

For a second, a small, tiny part of Emil—a part Emil wanted to gag and throw in the basement—wished his parents were here.

And then Lukas turned around with two bowls of hafragrautur and Emil felt so overwhelming grateful for his brother, even for Abel, for the two of them being there and making him breakfast.

Lukas sat at the table and gave the second bowl to Abel.

Emil blinked. "Don't I get a bowl?"

Lukas looked slowly at him. "You didn't want any."

Warm feeling gone. Emil sat at the far end of the table and slumped down in his seat, arms crossed. He should have just stayed in bed. This was stupid. Breakfast was stupid.

"You can grab a bowl," Abel said, pointing with his spoon.

"I'm not hungry."

Lukas glanced at him. "Don't be spiteful, birthday boy."

"I'm not spiteful," Emil spat.

"Look, everyone at this table knows you like hafragrautur, just get a bowl, birthday boy."

"I hate you."

Lukas nodded. "Are you really going to make me make Abel get you a bowl, birthday boy?"

Emil opened his mouth, but Lukas was already turning to Abel.

"Get the birthday boy a bowl."

"Why me?"

"Because I told you to."

"He's your brother."

"Yes, but I'm your roommate, and he's my brother, so by transitive properties, he's your brother, and you should get him a bowl of hafragrautur."

Abel frowned. "Roommates?"

Emil chimed in: "I hear you guys banging all the time."

Lukas' tone was even. "Roommates."

Emil rolled his eyes. "Roommates who share a bed?"

"Poor roommates."

Abel looked confused. "What?"

Emil stood. "I'll get my own fucking bowl."

The front door jiggled. Emil's head snapped around. Lukas met his eyes evenly and took a bite of hafragrautur. Abel tried to follow his lead, but he took a bite and grinned.

Around his food: "We invited Tino and Berwald."

Lukas kicked Abel underneath the table.

"Well, we did!"

Emil groaned. "I told you not to tell them it was my birthday."

Lukas blinked. "They're your uncles."

" _So_?" Emil snapped.

"They know when your birthday is."

Berwald came through the doorway carrying two armfuls of gifts. He walked up to Emil and stared down at him. Emil stared back, pulled the hafragrautur a little closer to him. Berwald nodded, once, and placed all the gifts at Emil's feet.

Tino was dancing back and forth on his feet. He was fighting valiantly against the grin on his face. "Emil!" he said loudly.

"Tino," Emil said back.

Tino seemed lost beyond that. "How… How has your morning been?"

The poor man seemed close to bursting. Emil sighed, and placed the hafragrautur on the counter.

"You can wish me happy birthday, if you really need to."

Tino let out a short laugh and hugged Emil. "Happy sixteenth birthday, Emil!"

Berwald suddenly had a cake in his hands. "We got a cake."

"It's seven in the morning," Abel objected loudly. "Emil needs a well-balanced breakfast as a growing boy."

Emil rolled his eyes. "I've seen you eat a bag of Doritos for breakfast."

"Yes, well," Abel flexed his arms. "I'm grown." He grinned.

Berwald was holding a birdcage. "We got you a bird."

Emil couldn't stop the smile to his face. "Really?"

Lukas stood. "Did you also get him a Mustang? We said no pets."

Tino nodded. "Really!"

Berwald looked from Emil to Lukas. "Does he want a Mustang?"

Lukas did get a scooter, which was pretty close.


	6. Caviar and Spiders

**Abel is Denmark.**

* * *

Lukas snapped on his hat. No matter what he did, it did not stop smelling like grease. He reeked of French fries. There was salt underneath his fingernails.

"Where are those large fries, Luke?"

"Where's that dick up your ass, Gilbert?" Lukas said back.

Sweat dripped down his forehead and down his back. His fingers burned.

 **...**

"Welcome home!" Abel called. "There he is, my proud Mickie D's worker! How was work today? How are your fingers?"

Lukas was already stripping as he headed to the shower. All he could smell was grease. He could taste in on his lips.

"Baby?"

Lukas kicked open the bathroom door, slammed it shut. He ripped off his work uniform, threw it on the ground, tore off his undershirt, his belt wouldn't come out of his pants, his finger fumbled at the button, couldn't get his pants off.

" _Fuck_ ," he snarled.

"Baby?"

" _Fuck off_ ," Lukas snapped. He kicked the wall, kicked it again. His foot sank into the cheap plaster.

Lukas stood, looking at the hole. Sank to the floor.

"Lukas?"

Lukas looked blankly at the door. "Not home right now. Leave a message after the beep."

"Hey, Lukas, just calling to make sure everything's okay. You came in here and yelled and kicked something. Just makin' sure we're okay. Call me back when you can."

Lukas stared at the door handle. Leaned forward, unlocked it.

Abel's smile was soft. He crouched down. "Hey, there. Glad you picked up the phone. Why don't you tell me about your day?"

Lukas blinked. Blinked again. "Have you ever had caviar?"

It took a second for the words to register for Abel. "Ew, gross, the fish eggs? No. What do you even eat them with? Cereal?"

Lukas couldn't get off the ground. "I used to eat caviar. Now, I fry French fries. I get paid nothing."

Abel looked at him, and Lukas couldn't read what he was thinking. After all, what could get think? Lukas, sitting on the ground, freaking out about working a fucking _job_. Things boiled in Lukas, made him want to lash out.

Abel nodded. "I'm going to win us some money tonight. I know I can. I'm feeling lucky." He got down on his knees, took Lukas' hand, squeezed it. "Don't worry."

Lukas didn't squeeze back. "I'm going to see Berwald."

Abel's smile fell off his face. He scooted closer. "You don't have to do that. I'm going to get us some money."

Lukas closed his eyes. "You have tonight."

"Okay. Alright." A silence. "I beat almost all of _Emprise de Lion_."

Lukas stood, undressed, fingers burning. "Mm."

Abel sat on the toilet and watched him. "Oh, yeah, I had to kill this giant and everything! I only ever fight giants when you're not around."

"They're not real."

"They _are_ Lukas, they _are_!"

Lukas showered.

 **…**

Lukas stared at the ceiling. Stared at the water stain, the one that had spread across the plaster like a cancer. He didn't sleep. He had a shift tomorrow from eight to twelve—so he didn't have a fifteen-minute break.

His fingers tingled.

Abel was not back.

Lukas couldn't sleep.

He laid on his back. A spider made its way across the water stain. It stopped above Lukas' head.

Lukas snapped and grabbed a book, stood and easily reached the ceiling, slammed it against the spider, again and again. Lukas threw the book.

Laid back down. Looked at the water stain. Looked at the smudge of black. Lukas' stomach rolled.

The door opened. The sink turned on. The sink turned off.

The bedroom door opened, Abel stripped, curled into bed, tried to grab Lukas.

Lukas was stiff as a board. "How much?"

Abel sighed, breath warm against Lukas' neck. "I'm sorry." His voice was hoarse. Wet. Catching. "I'm so sorry. I lost everything. I'm so sorry. Please, don't."

Lukas closed his eyes. "I'm going to see him tomorrow."

Silence.

Abel stood, grabbed a pillow, walked into the living room.

Lukas kept his eyes closed.

 **…**

His alarm went off. He sat up. He stripped and walked into the bathroom, did not stop to see if Abel was still there. He washed, tried to get the smell of sweat and grease out of his skin.

The cologne that costed more than Lukas made in a week of working now, smeared on his neck and up his arms to the elbow.

He found his nicest shirt, a pair of slacks, combed his hair how Berwald liked it. He looked at himself.

Abel was standing in the doorway. "I won't forgive you," he said, voice loud. "I swear to God, Lukas. You're not a whore," he snarled, eyes wide.

"Do you want to starve? Is that what you want? To lose this shitty fucking apartment?" Lukas slapped on aftershave for good measure. "I'm doing what I have to so we can be together."

"You're giving up!"

Lukas turned, then. "I am getting us money. Thing _you_ keep betting away."

Abel's eyebrows drew together, stepped back, arms crossed. "What do you want from me?"

It made Lukas want to turn away. He didn't.

Abel's mouth twisted. "I'm not rich. You knew that."

Lukas stepped forward, looked Abel in the eye. "Move."

And Abel did.

 **…**

The house looked the same—yard trimmed, car in the driveway, just enough clutter to show a person lived there. Berwald threw himself into his work around the house. A new set of rocking chairs, handmade.

Lukas rang the doorbell. He looked at his feet. Dress shoes were worn almost through the soles.

The door opened.

"Lukas."

Lukas knew he shouldn't have come. Berwald towered over him, face stony, jaw set, teeth clenched, shoulders thrown back. He looked at Lukas like he was an insect. A spider.

"Why you here?" Berwald said, voice very deep and very soft.

Lukas blinked. "We have no money."

Berwald's hands were balled into fists, knuckles white. "Two years, Lukas. You were sleeping with— _him_ for two _years_." He spat the words from between his teeth.

"I—"

Berwald slammed his hand into the doorframe. "Don't you say anythin'!" Berwald looked away, shook his head. "Don't you say _anythin_ '. Not how it works."

Lukas' fingers shook. "Please."

Berwald shook his head again, still wouldn't meet his eyes. "Are you even sorry?"

A car drove past.

Now, Berwald looked at him. Looked down at him. "Are you?"

Lukas kept his gaze steady.

The door slammed. Lukas closed his eyes, took a deep breath. Released it.

 **…**

"Bondevik!"

Lukas stood facing the fryers.

"Bondevik, I'm talking to you." Gilbert grabbed Lukas' shoulder and spun him around. "Where do you get off coming in two hours—"

Lukas punched him. His knuckles cracked, and the first thing he wondered was how much that would cost to fix. They couldn't pay for it.

Gilbert picked himself off the ground and slapped Lukas, _fast_. He was stunned, and then Gilbert was on top of him, punch, punch, punching.

" _Fucker_ ," Gilbert snarled. "You fucking blue blood mother _fucker_!"

Gilbert hauled him off the ground and threw him over the counter. The customers were silent. Staring.

Lukas laid on the ground, cheek against the sticky ground, winded.

Gilbert vaulted himself neatly over the counter, dragged Lukas up, shoved him through the doors and threw him into the parking lot.

"You're lucky I don't fucking shove your face into that fucking fry oil." Gilbert looked down at him. Grinned at him. "Fuck off, Bondevik."

Lukas had to roll onto his other side—his right hand hurt too much to support his weight. He stood. Limped away.

 **…**

Lukas sat in the dark. He had changed and washed his face. Knuckles throbbing. Face throbbing.

The ceiling. The water stain.

He picked himself up, grabbed the book, opened it. Read the whole thing.

Abel did not come home.

The alarm went off, and Lukas showered, put on his next best shirt, next best pants. He did not wear cologne.

People on the bus gave him looks. Lukas stared at his shoes.

 **…**

The bar was still busy this time of day. It was in that part of town—where everyone smoked and wore wife-beaters. Lukas cradled his hand and kept his head down.

It took Lukas a second to adjust to the light. It was dim, filled with cigarette smoke, grime on every surface. Men grouped around beer—even this early—heads together.

And the back, a table that had once been green. And Abel was there, grin on his face, cigarette from his lips, cards in his hands. He always smiled. Lost more than he won. But he always smiled, and when he had a good hand, you were fucked.

Abel glanced up, his grin got wider. "Lukas, baby, I'm up…"

Lukas limped over.

"Abe, in or out?"

Abel reached out and touched Lukas' shoulder.

"Abel, in or out?"

"Give me what I won." Abel shoved the money in his pocket, one hand on the small of Lukas' back, leading him. "Alright, come on, come on, let's see what we have here. Made money, more than enough for everything—food, rent."

The bathroom smelled of dope. Abel locked the door, took Lukas' hand, examined it in the flickering florescence.

"I'm going to kill him," Abel said. "I'm going to break into his prissy house and I'm going to kill him." He ran a finger under Lukas' blackeye. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Lukas nodded. "It wasn't Berwald."

Abel hugged him.

Lukas let himself be held.

* * *

 **Anonymous said :** Would you consider writing a thing where Nor comes to his senses and runs away to be with Den? He ends up living a much poorer lifestyle than he was use to, but he's happy because he has love. (You can consider it a different au if you want, anything with Nor leaving Sve to be with Den would make me really happy ^^)


	7. Band-Aids and Idiots

**Abel is Denmark.**

* * *

"Hey there."

Lukas didn't even look up from his phone.

The blond stammered for a second. "I, uh, well, I've just seen you around here before. You know, it's weird, because it's not very often that you see someone here, reading your phone, not getting plastered. And I just thought it was unique. Not like other guys here."

Lukas skipped switched apps.

"I'll buy you a drink, if you want. Do you… drink?"

"Wouldn't come to a bar if I didn't drink."

"Ah, you do speak! See, was that so hard?"

Lukas dragged his eyes up. The blond grinned—he looked like he hadn't touched a brush in years. He had a split lip, and his eyebrow had a bandage over it, black with dried blood. The guy's eyes widened.

Lukas looked back down at his phone.

"Should I guess?"

Lukas looked back up.

The guy's eyebrows drew together, and he sat down next to Lukas, rested his chin in his hand. "Alright, so I'm guessing you don't like beer."

Lukas blinked.

"Am I right? I bet you I'm right. So, I'm going to take a guess that you like straight up vodka. Or tequila. Something that's right to the point, am I right?' The guy nodded. "Hm? If I order us a round of shots, will you take them with me?" The guy waved over the bartender. "Two shots of tequila and vodka, barkeep!"

The guy pushed a shot over to Lukas.

"What do you say? Just one?" He smiled, tilted his head like a dog.

Lukas threw his phone on the counter and took a shot of vodka. The guy did the same.

"I'm Abel," he chirped, holding out his hand.

Lukas looked at the hand. "Lukas."

Abel nodded. "Hey, I punch people for fun. You wanna' watch?"

 **…**

Abel hopped in front of him, kicking at pebbles and chunks of snow. Lukas trudged beside him, hands in his pockets.

"For fun?"

Abel whirled around, walking backwards and grinning. "Hell yeah, baby!" He shadow boxed, ducking under an imaginary punch, nearly fell on his ass passing over an ice patch. "I'm one of the best ones there!"

"This how you always pick up men?"

Abel laughed. "I'm not picking you up! I just thought, since you're always sitting alone, you'd like to see something interesting. Why are you always there, anyways?"

"Why are you stalking me?"

Abel raised his hands. "Hey, now, I'm just trying to be friendly! I feel like you'd have better things to do than hang around that bar."

"My brother is hanging out with his friends."

Abel perked. "You have a brother? I've always wanted a brother. What's his name? How old is he? Does he look like you?"

"Emil. Fifteen." Lukas flicked through his phone. "This is him."

Abel squinted. "He's cute! Like you!"

Lukas locked his phone.

Abel nodded. "So, why don't you hang out with your brother and his friends?"

Lukas kept walking.

"I've always wanted a big family. Lots of brothers and sisters. And kids, I guess." Abel pointed. "See that warehouse thing? That's where we're going. Don't be afraid to shove someone if they're a dick."

"'m not."

It stank of sweat and sawdust—a spot in the middle of the concrete floor covered in wood shavings. Everyone gathered around either the center or a keg in the corner. Abel followed behind Lukas.

"It's just a small thing. It's not by weight or anything, not like the professional rings. You go to the rink and anyone who wants to fight you fights you. I—"

"Abel!" A man taller than even Abel stepped in front of them.

Abel's stood taller and stepped next to Lukas. "Ivan."

"Who is your friends. Hello, I'm Ivan." He held his hands out, and it received the same treatment Abel's did. "Ah, he is not very polite, Abel."

Abel shrugged. "He's my guest."

Ivan smiled. "Is he going to watch me beat you into the ground again?" He gestured at Abel's face. "I did that to him the other night."

Abel crossed his arms. "I let him do it, Lukas."

"Lukas," Ivan said brightly. "I like that name."

"Don't like Russians," Lukas said.

"Very rude," Ivan said to Abel. "We should be getting the next fight, no?"

Abel crossed his arms and nodded. Ivan smiled and trotted away, grabbing two cups and draining them, grabbing another, draining that one. He was big.

"Let him beat you in the ground," Lukas muttered.

The grin reappeared. "I did! I was drunk, and I had already fought some people, and he got the better of me, what can I say? I'm honest, but not he's the one who's face is going to—"

"Do you get hurt?"

"Me? Or… I mean, yeah, some people." Abel gestured. "We get drunk and don't pay attention, but usually someone will step in—"

"Usually."

Abel smiled and touched Lukas' elbow. "Grab a drink. This is supposed to be fun!"

"Køhler!"

Abel smiled. "That's me." He danced backwards, pointing at Lukas. "Grab a drink! I'll be fine!"

Lukas shoved himself through the crowd, stepping on toes. Abel was stretching out his arms, bouncing from foot to foot. He had taken his shirt of at some point, and his muscled moved pleasantly underneath his skin. Ivan, meanwhile, was more like a bear than a bodybuilder.

Abel waved at Lukas.

Lukas had no idea when the fight started, but suddenly both men's fists were up, and they were circling each other. There were a few claps from the audience.

"Fuck him up, Ivan!

Ivan smiled.

Abel darted forward, shooting for the lower body. Ivan let the punches hit—the sound of skin slapping on skin, and Lukas got the impression that those punches hadn't phased Ivan.

Ivan gave Abel a shove, and the man danced back.

Abel came in again, two lower body punches, and then one aiming for Ivan's head. He let the first two hit, kept his arms up defending his head.

Ivan's fist flew out so fast, just as Abel's were retreating. Lukas could _hear_ the fist hit Abel's jaw, the crack of knuckles on bone.

Abel danced back again, shaking his head. Lukas could see his legs tremble.

Ivan smiled.

Ivan stepped forward, and Abel came forward to meet him. Abel slammed his fists into Ivan's stomach, again and again. Ivan kept his hands up around his head, then again, so fast, his fist shot out towards Abel's head.

But Abel was ready this time. Back his arms went, protecting his face. Then, he was back again, fists into Ivan's stomach.

Ivan stepped back, and his arms came lower to protect himself. Then, it was Abel's turn to crack his fist into Ivan's mouth.

Ivan tried to follow up Abel's punch with his own, but Abel was already dancing away.

Ivan wasn't smiling anymore.

Abel came forward again, aiming low, but Ivan was expecting it. A fantastic left hook, Abel's unprotected side. Lukas could see the punch pushing Abel _down_.

Abel stumbled, and Ivan was there again, another punch as Abel's hands went out to stable himself.

And then Abel was on the ground.

And then Ivan _kicked_ him. Lukas could hear the breath wheeze out of Abel's lungs.

"Hey," Lukas said. Loud. He surprised himself.

Abel tried to lift himself up, but Ivan kicked out his hands from underneath him. Abel fell back onto the sawdust.

Lukas walked forward into the rink. "You're done," he said to Ivan.

Ivan's eyes flicked to him, and he loomed over Lukas. Then, he shrugged, smiled, and nodded. "Very well." He turned and walked back through the crowd.

Abel coughed. Lukas crouched down beside him.

"Usually?"

Abel laughed, the air leaving his mouth and lungs wetly. "Thank you."

Lukas grabbed Abel's shoulder and arm and hauled him up, made sure he could stand on his feet before he took his hands away. But he found his hands back there as they walked away from the ring.

"Did it work?" Abel asked.

Lukas raised an eyebrow.

"Did watching me punch people for fun impress you?" Abel coughed. "Just wondering. I didn't win, but I thought I held my own pretty well. I punched him. For fun."

"You're a fucking idiot."

Abel hung his head.

 **…**

Lukas opened his apartment door and led Abel through. It was dark, and Emil had probably gone to sleep hours ago. Abel rubbed his arms, shivering, looking around like a toddler in a museum.

"Wow, this is pretty swanky!"

Lukas grabbed his elbow and led him into the bathroom. "You live in a cardboard box?"

"Not really." Abel scratched the back of his head. "I live in my van."

"'Course." Lukas sat Abel down on the toilet. "Your face is fucked."

Lukas dug through the mirror cabinet.

"So, can I meet Emil? That's his name, right?" Abel stood a little, looking out the bathroom door. "I wouldn't punch his face for fun, that's for sure. Can I?"

Lukas kicked the bathroom door shut. "No."

"Please?"

Lukas found the hydroperoxide, dumping it on a facecloth. He wiped away the blood from Abel's cuts, inspecting the damage. It wasn't great—but none of it need stitches. Abel winced as Lukas washed.

"Thank you," Abel said.

Lukas threw the facecloth in the sink and grabbed a box of Band-Aids.

"I'm serious." Abel smiled quickly at him. "You didn't have to bring me to your house to clean me up—you didn't even have to come with me to the sketchiest invitation of a date in the world. But you did. Thank you."

Lukas ripped open a Band-Aid. "Wasn't a date."

"Oh. Are you sure?"

Lukas placed the Band-Aid over Abel's mouth. "You talk too loud."

Abel grinned.


	8. Woah--Your Cloaca Opens Up!

**This is MPreg.**

 **This is science-heavy MPreg. Scroll to the bottom every time you see a * and read science behind what's happening. Or don't ! Read for the baby-ness alone! :D Your choice !**

 **This is my AU for MPreg, but you can use it if you contact me for permission and credit me.**

* * *

"Wait, are you pregnant?"

Lukas took a sip of water. "No."

Emil pointed. "You literally just took a pregnancy vitamin."

Lukas looked at the bottle of pills in his hand. "Heard it's good for your hair."

"Is it also good for fetuses, because you take those when you're pregnant and you just took one, so I'm pretty sure you're pregnant." Emil's toast was going cold on his plate. " _Are_ you pregnant?"

Lukas opened the pantry and put the pills back next to the Aspirin and Motrin. "Haven't gotten my period."

"Wait, so you're an X-O?" *

The toast popped up, and Lukas walked over. He began to butter his toast. Emil felt like he was floating; this was surreal, this wasn't happening. Lukas' toast was going to be digested and then the nutrients were going to be passed along to a little clump of cells and help it grow.

"I didn't even know you _got_ your period! What the hell, man!"

Lukas glanced up from his toast. "Going to get an ultrasound, if you're interested."

Emil practically recoiled. "What, like, to see the…"

Lukas raised an eyebrow.

"I… just…" Emil took a bite of his toast. "Who's the sperm belong to?" **

"Abel."

Emil choked on his toast. "The _intern_?!"

"He's in law school."

"Yeah, but he's an _intern_ at your firm! He's an intern! You slept with the intern! You could get _fired_!"

"He's twenty-five. I'm twenty-six."

Emil threw his hands in the air. "Look, I don't know how your firm works! But I _do_ know that…" Emil squinted. "Does Abel know?"

Lukas shrugged.

"You can't just _shrug_!" Emil buried his face in his hands. "You couldn't have picked anyone dumber to sleep with. He's so dumb. He owns a sword and says it's authentic from Japan. It's not, it literally says it's made in China on the hilt."

"He's in law school."

"Yeah, and there's a reason he's going into property disputes—that's remedial law! It's dumb people law!"

Abel walked into the kitchen. "What's dumb people law?"

Emil stared at Abel. "I…" He switched to staring at Lukas. "Does he know about… the… the vitamins?"

Abel stole Lukas' other piece of toast. "Oh! Vitamins?"

Lukas shrugged.

 **Nine Weeks**

"So, like, when are you going to tell him?" Emil glanced around the waiting room, feeling vaguely nauseous at all the pictures of cloacae-uterine complexes*** on the walls. "Or is there going to be nothing to tell?"

Lukas was texting. Probably texting Abel. "He'll figure it out."

"I don't think he will."

"Give him some credit."

"Well, he didn't figure out he should use a condom, so…" Emil gave an exaggerated shrug, palms turned upwards.

A nurse stuck her head out of the door to the back. "Lukas?"

Lukas stood. "I didn't tell him I was X-O."

Every school health class Emil had ever taken suddenly shrieked at him from across his memory. " _Lukas_!" Emil stood and grabbed Lukas' arm. "Lukas, you can't _do_ that!" he hissed.

Emil snapped his mouth shut when they neared the nurse, but Emil didn't let go of Lukas' arm. She smiled at them and led them back into an examination room. Emil ducked his head and glowered as Lukas hopped onto the examination table, while he sat in a little folding chair that was obviously meant for the impregnator.

All light seemed to be getting sucked into the computer monitor on the wall.

The nurse took Lukas' vital signs, and Emil was stuck staring at a little model of half-view of a uterus with a huge baby inside, its head just starting to poke down into the cloaca.

When the nurse finally left, Emil whirled on Lukas. "I cannot believe you—you—" Emil floundered. "You were so _irresponsible_!"

Lukas grabbed a pamphlet and started leafing through it; _Stages of Development_.

"Seriously—you didn't tell him you were X-O, you didn't—or _aren't_ —going to tell him you're pregnant. Why are you being so _stupid_?" Emil cast a glance at the door, wary of the nurse reappearing. "I don't think Abel will appreciate it," he said in a lower voice.

Lukas stared at the pamphlet, though Emil didn't think he was actually reading it.

" _Lukas_!"

The door opened and a man entered. Emil looked at his crossed arms, teeth clenched.

"Hello, hello." The doctor shut the door. "I'm Dr. Tino Väinämöinen, but you can just call me Dr. Tino! And you must be Lukas Bondevik, correct? Can you just confirm your birthday for me, Lukas?"

Emil glanced up. The doctor was short and smiling, and he shook Lukas' hand with an honest sincerity. He seemed… _too_ short to be a doctor. He looked like he smiled a lot, too; it didn't quite reach his eyes the way a _real_ smile is supposed to.

Dr. Tino collapsed into a rolling chair, typing on his laptop. "Is this your first pregnancy, Lukas?"

"Yes."

"Alright. Did you know you were an X-O before you found out you were pregnant? It can be a shock for some people." ****

"I knew." Lukas glanced at Emil.

"And you plan on keeping the pregnancy?"

Emil stared hard back at Lukas. Please, Lukas, don't do the dumb thing. Please, just get rid of it and Emil would never, ever mention it again, and Abel wouldn't even have to know, and there would be no harm done for any of this.

"I do." Lukas shrugged and looked away from Emil. "I'd like to keep it."

"And you're aware there's a twenty-five percent risk that the fetus is nonviable?"

Lukas didn't answer.

Dr. Tino looked between Emil and Lukas, face a careful mask of neutrality. He hummed understandingly and leaned back from his computer. "The fetus may receive two copies of a Y-chromosome from you and your partner. If this happens, the fetus won't have enough genetic information to survive."

Twenty-fiver percent sounded way higher than Emil had thought. He knew it was a _thing_ , but he hadn't been aware the chances were so high.

Dr. Tino nodded, though Lukas hadn't said anything. "You'll know within the next few weeks if something is wrong. You'll have heavy cramping and bleeding, and I want you to call the office if that happens. You may have some spotting, but that's normal during implantation of the egg into the uterine wall. You're looking for heavy cramping. *****

"On the bright side, there's a seventy-five percent chance your pregnancy is completely viable!" Dr. Tino smiled. "Now, according to your primary care doctor, your cloaca is smaller than average for an X-O. I'm guessing you didn't get tested until you were older?" ******

Dr. Tino waited for Lukas to nod.

"That's fine. Things tend to loosen up down there as the pregnancy progresses, so we'll just need to keep an eye on the diameter." Dr. Tino shut his laptop with a click. "Now, for the fun part! Do you want to try for a heartbeat and ultrasound?"

Lukas looked up. "Yes."

Dr. Tino grinned. "Now, technically the ultrasound techs can do this, but I always like doing the first ones. There are tissues on the table next to you." He winked.

No heartbeat this time, but Lukas left clutching a grainy black and white strip of film.

 **Fourteen Weeks**

Emil sprawled out on the couch, looking through the photos. Lukas was bent over a dictionary, finger on a word, looking back and forth from the Scrabble board. They had been going to make chicken, but the smell made Lukas nauseous.

Emil had also had to take over mopping duties; the Swiffer pads, Lukas explained. But it might have just been a ruse so Emil would mop and Lukas could fuck off. Emil wasn't sure, but if he had to choose between vomit and mopping, he'd choose mopping.

"It doesn't look like much," Emil said.

"You spelled this word wrong. It's a C, not an S."

Emil sat up and threw the pictures on the table. "Bullshit, let me see." Emil squinted down at the lettering. "You know, I could be doing homework right now."

"I could be doing paperwork. Scrabble is more fun."

There was a knock at the door.

Lukas eyes flicked from Emil to the door.

Emil shut the dictionary with a loud snap.

Lukas flipped him off.

"Lukas?" Abel called from the other side of the door. "Are you home? I brought a coffee, just in case you wanted it. I told them not to put any cream or sugar in it, it's black as death, with three caffeine shots, like how you like it."

Lukas motioned frantically to the door.

Emil crossed his arms.

"Your bike is out front, but you and Emil might have gone somewhere." One knuckled wrapped on the wood again. "Did I do something? Because I'd rather you just tell me than blow me off and—"

Abel kept talking, but Lukas stood suddenly and vaulted over the couch. He pulled the door open sharply, interrupting Abel's monologue, and stood there.

"Oh!" Abel held out a coffee. "I got you a—"

"I'm pregnant."

Lukas slammed the door shut and whirled to face Emil.

Emil threw his hands in the air. "Why did you do that?" he whisper-yelled.

"I panicked," Lukas whisper-yelled back.

Emil gave him a thumbs down.

 **…**

Emil turned the volume on his iPod up again and leaned over his work. Emil was working on chemistry. Chemistry sucked.

Lukas scribbled his signature on something, turned to his computer, and clicked something on the keyboard.

Abel sat underneath the table, mouth to Lukas' stomach.

"I'm telling you Lukas," Abel shouted, "you don't talk enough! The baby won't be able to learn how to speak if you don't talk! It primes the brain! Makes little baby synapsiseses fire! We need to have the smartest baby possible!"

Lukas said something Emil couldn't hear over his music.

" _Really_?" Abel's voice cut through the music like a bullet. " _How loud do you think I need to be_!?"

Emil maxed out the volume on his iPod.

 **Twenty Weeks**

Emil held his face in his hands, curled up on the couch. " _Please_ stop sharing facts."

Lukas patted Emil's knee and then spelled out _zenith_ on the Scrabble board. At least Abel was losing.

"So, right now, the baby is as big as a banana." Abel flipped a page. "She can swallow now, and I guess the digestive tract is… uh…" Abel squinted.

" _How_ are you in law school?" Emil switched a few of his letters around, frowning at the board. "I've never heard of someone with such poor reading comprehension."

"Look, I can read _law stuff_ , but this is _biology_ stuff." Abel held open the book to Emil. "Loo at this diagram! It's a cross section! I've never had to take a hard science in my life, not once, and I don't plan to now."

Emil spelled out _idiot_ on the board.

Abel leaned over his book, occasionally humming. "Oh, she has kidneys now! That's cool!"

Lukas grabbed Abel's letters and switched a few around. "She always had kidneys."

Abel held out a picture. "No, look! No kidneys before twenty weeks. Next ultrasound you can see them." He grabbed his letters back and switched them back. "Speaking of the next ultrasound…"

"No." Lukas stood and walked to the kitchen.

Abel launched himself neatly over the coffee table and plopped himself next to Emil, leaning over the back of the couch to watch Lukas in the kitchen. "Please? Please, I wanna' know if I guessed right."

Lukas was pouring himself a bowl of special cereal with all the iron in it.

Emil glanced waved a lazy hand. "Hey, get me a bowl, too." He reached a leg out and pushed Abel farther away from him, careful to avoid his bare toes touching Abel's arm. No, Emil's toes only touched Abel's shirt.

Emil gave him a quick kick and returned to his phone.

Abel rolled onto his back and held the book over his head. "Are you having any leg cramps?"

Lukas returned and handed Emil a bowl of cereal. "That's personal information."

"What about discharge?"

Emil choked on the cereal. " _Please_."

Lukas sat in between Emil and Abel, leaning against Abel; Abel slid to the floor, and Lukas reclined triumphantly, throne reclaimed, and took a bite of cereal.

Abel sat up. "According to the book, if you don't _already_ have cloacal discharge, you're going to get even more the closer the day comes. It helps lube—"

Emil flicked his spoon at Abel. "Stop!"

"I care _deeply_ about this family's health—"

Emil flicked more milk at him. "That does _not_ include cloacal discharge!"

"There is nothing wrong with—"

Lukas pointed at his stomach. "Baby's upset."

An external force completely outside of Emil's control focused all his attention on Lukas's stomach. Then, faintly, a tiny portion of Lukas' stomach (say, about the size of a tiny heel) poked outwards, then retreated. Emil had seen it all, despite Lukas' t-shirt.

Abel leaned forward. "Hey, Baby!"

Emil leaned back. "Your calm demeanor terrifies me."

Lukas shrugged. "It's cool."

Abel's hand shot out and pressed against Lukas' stomach. "Half way there, Baby! Freja, how about that name? You like that name? Kick once for yes." Abel watched intensely, careful of Lukas' cereal balanced above, on the dome of his stomach.

"There's a sixty-six percent chance it's either an X-Y or X-O, there's no way it's a girl." Emil took another bite of cereal. "I like that name, though."

Lukas considered his stomach, bowl and all. "Maybe."

 **Thirty Weeks**

Emil stared at his phone, horrified. "They _cut you open_."

Lukas was sole owner of the couch now. Emil was perched on the arm, near Lukas' feet. Lukas was sprawled on his side, rubbing his stomach, sipping water. Emil reached down and squeezed his feet a few times, and Lukas let wiggled his toes.

"You're seriously having this done?" Emil looked over at him. "Because they're gonna' _cut you open_ , you know. You're going to have staples in you. They straight up reach right in there and pop her out."

"You don't know it's a girl."

Emil rolled his eyes. "How are the contractions?"

Lukas took a sip of water. "Fine. I only get them when assholes make me run up and down the stairs to fax their shit, and only at the end of the day." He sat up, huffing. "It's my feet that are actually killing me."

Emil slid down onto the couch cushion next to Lukas. "Can wait for them to reach right up in there and pop her out, huh?"

"If my feet go back to normal, they can do it now." Lukas rested his head backwards. "I don't know what the firm is going to do without me."

Emil scoffed. "They can hire other paralegals."

"No one can get the fax machine to work besides me, because everyone is an idiot." Lukas tapped a finger against his stomach.

"So," Emil began. "Does Abel, like, live here now?"

"No."

"Because he brought a suitcase and he has a toothbrush and I'm like ninety percent sure you let him sleep in your bed." Emil pointed. "Every morning he makes a big show of complaining about how his back hurts—"

From the kitchen: "I sleep on the _ground_! In a _sleeping bag_! I _ache_!"

Lukas didn't even turn around. "Do your homework."

 **…**

Emil put his hand on the baby and took a picture for a size comparison. "Hey, are you going to tell her she was an accident?"

* * *

 ***** X-O refers to the notation of an affected X-chromosome. Males or females that carry an affected X chromosome are denoted as XoX, XoXo, or XoY, which has been shortened to X-O in common speech.

X-O males have both female and male reproductive systems, and can impregnate or become pregnant. X-O females (who must inherit XoXo from both parents to be affected) tend to have two female reproductive systems, and are predisposed to twins or triplets.

A person inherits an X from their mother, and either an X or Y from their father. Y chromosomes contain very little genetic information, which is why X-O males only need one copy of Xo to be affected, while females need two. If a female inherits only one affected Xo, she can use the other, "normal" X chromosome for her reproductive system.

A human only needs one copy of the Y chromosome to produce sperm. "He" in this universe refers to a person who can impregnate another person, while "she" indicates being unable to impregnate someone else.

Mother's sex chromosomes

...Xo...X

Father's... X| _XoX_ | XX

chromo ...Y| **XoY** | XY

-somes

The bolded XoY shows the inheritance of the X-O affected male. The XoX female offspring (italicized) can similarly pass on the XoY trait to her son, but is not affected by the gene.

** The term "father" refers to an X-O male who gives birth, while "mother" is for females who give birth. Donor is the polite term for the person who provides sperm.

*** A cloaca is a change to the human anatomy I've made. A cloaca is one "hole" where urine, excrement, sperm, and children leave the body. Different organs (bladder, colon, etc.), but it all leaves out the same hole down there.

**** X-O males and XX females experience varying levels of menstrual cycle symptoms. XoX and XoXo females experience the "typical" period symptoms of bleeding and cramping. This obviously clues people in to if they're X-O or not.

...Xo ...Y 

X | XoX | XY

Y| XoY | **YY**

As mentioned earlier, the Y sex chromosome contains very little genetic information. A fetus needs at least one X chromosome to receive enough genetic information to live. The bolded YY chromosome above shows how the 25% mortality rate is arrived at. For an X-O male, two out of every three children is a male.

****** Occasionally, newborn babies are tested for their chromosomes. This is usually only done because either the male baby was born late (taking extra time for its sexual organs to form) or if a male baby has a larger-than-average cloaca (a common trait among X-O males for child birth). Lukas' chromosomes weren't tested until puberty, when he got his period, because his cloaca was of average size for an XY (unaffected) male.

 **OTHER SCIENCE STUFF that relates to REAL LIFE pregnancy and not made up stuff!**

· People tend to know they're pregnant around 6 to 8 weeks at the earliest, after their first missed period. Pregnancy is counted from the first day of a woman's last menstrual cycle _before_ she got pregnant.

· You have to take prenatal vitamins to make sure your fetus is healthy!

· Large fish (like tuna) and raw fish are bad to eat when you're pregnant. Big fish contain a higher concentration of mercury, which is bad for fetuses.

· Spotting is normal in your early pregnancy. This is because your zygote digs into your uterine wall and attaches there, which can cause some minor bleeding.

· You can hear a fetus' heart beat around 8 weeks.

· Morning sickness varies A LOT between people. Some people are nauseous in the morning, and then fine the rest of the day. Some people are nauseous all the time for their _entire_ pregnancy. Some people get really nauseous from certain smells (like raw chicken or cleaning products). If you can't keep any liquid down, sometimes you have to go to the hospital for an IV so you don't become dehydrated.

· Fetuses can hear! As a fetus develops into the later months (three months and on) it hears your talk! It can recognize its mother's voice when it's born, and different babies from different languages even cry differently depending on how its native language sounds. New born babies can be calmed down by loud continuous sounds (like a hair dryer) that replicates the sounds it heard in the womb—like its mother's rushing blood and heartbeat! (Look up videos; it's neat.)

· You can tell a baby's sex around twenty weeks. A fetus starts developing sex organs around 4 to 6 weeks.

· You can totally see a baby kick from underneath the skin. It's insane.

· Later in pregnancy, you often experience swelling of feet. This is because you have a lot of Liquid in you, from dealing with the baby's waste products (which it dumps in your blood) and giving the baby nutrients. However, you also produce a special hormone that loosens up your joins in preparation for your pelvis stretching during child birth; this can also cause your feet to swell.

· Braxton Hicks contractions are your body's practice birth! They occur in later pregnancy. If you're tired or dehydrated, you may experience Braxton Hicks contractions; if you have more than four in an hour, contact your doctor.

· You can ride a bicycle until you're like twenty weeks. I know this because my professor told me she rode a bicycle pregnant and kept kicking herself in the stomach. That's hysterical.


End file.
